The Perils of Polymorph
It took a full two days to finally decide to try Polymorph. Or maybe three, I couldn't be sure. All I knew was that the time I'd spent lying motionless in the pitch-black cave, without a single ray of sunlight, felt about that long.
The only thing I'd done during that stretch was practice breathing control. Just through my nose. Shallow. Extremely carefully. Dragon breathing exercises for a calamity-class beast might sound impressive, but in reality, it was nothing more than the desperate survival tactics of an ordinary everyman who'd nearly collapsed his entire home with one wrong breath.
And in those few days, I'd realized one key fact: this body didn't get hungry. Even after two days without food, there was no gnawing emptiness in my stomach—no thirst, no drowsiness. It was on a whole different level from my human days, when skipping a single lunch made my hands and feet tremble.
At least I didn't have to worry about what to hunt with this massive frame. Small mercies. But a more pressing issue loomed.
I can't just hole up here without knowing what's happening outside.
I needed to check the Imperial Calendar date. Figure out if this was before or after the original story began. Only then could I map out a survival plan. Approaching human society as a mountain-sized black dragon? Impossible. The answer was Polymorph.
The problem is, I have no idea how.
The original novel glossed over dragon Polymorph as something like "compress mana to shrink the body." And Barkaion never transformed once throughout the story, so there were no detailed descriptions. Still, the ability had to be ingrained in this body somewhere. Like riding a bike—you don't forget how, you just haven't done it lately. I convinced myself it was just a matter of muscle memory I didn't know how to access yet.
Mana. Compress the mana.
I closed my eyes and focused inward. Soon, I sensed it: a massive energy coiled around my heart. Like a compressed sun, an endless mass of power pulsing slowly with each heartbeat. This is mana? The sheer amount is terrifying.
Compress it. Gather the mana spread through my body and pull it inward.
The moment my will seized that immense energy, my scales bristled all at once. The golden patterns between my jet-black scales glowed like molten lava, illuminating the cave like midday. A scorching heat surged, and I felt my body being sucked inward. Mana flowed back from my limbs toward my heart; scales, bones, and muscles contracted sharply. It wasn't quite pain, nor pleasure—just an alien sensation sweeping through me.
I snapped my eyes open, and my viewpoint plunged. The ceiling shot away; the floor rushed up. My house-sized claws shrank, scales sinking into skin. My wings folded uncomfortably into my back, but it was bearable. Seconds later, bare feet touched the cold stone floor.
"......Whoa."
The voice scraping from my throat was different. No earth-shaking rumble—just an utterly ordinary human sound. A bit low and dry, but unmistakably in the human range.
I looked down at pale skin, two arms, two legs, ten fingers—all in place. Silver-white hair cascaded over my shoulders, barely covering below my chest and easing the embarrassment of nudity. Barely.
No clothes, huh.
Obviously. Dragons don't come with outfits. I vaguely recalled transformed dragons scavenging clothes in the novel. I'd deal with that later; first, assess the body. I clenched and unclenched a fist—response time was flawless, as natural as my old fingers. Rolled my shoulders, cracked my neck—no chronic stiffness or back pain from my overworked 28-year-old life.
Easier than expected.
Feeling lighter, I took a step. A fist-sized rock fragment lay nearby—probably debris from when my breathing practice nearly caved the place in. Like kicking an empty can on the street, I toed it lightly. Truly lightly.
Thwack—!!
A cannonball whoosh, and the rock vanished, smashing into the opposite wall and punching a fist-sized hole. Radial cracks spiderwebbed out. I quietly shut my mouth.
"......Ah."
Staring between the wall and hole, reality sank in.
Even in human form, the strength remains.
Of course. Polymorph just changed the shell—it didn't alter a calamity dragon's essence. Compressing that overwhelming physical power into human size made the destructive force per unit area even deadlier.
......Strength control is key.
One unconscious flex like that, and I might pulverize someone's hand in a handshake. Practice was urgent, but testing in a half-ruined cave was like swinging a hammer in a crumbling house.
Time to go.
I headed for the entrance. Every step cratered the floor and puffed dust, so I stayed hyper-vigilant. The cave felt vast on human strides—over ten minutes, impatience crept in. Finally, the air shifted: cold, damp outside air brushed my skin. Light poured in. Sunlight cascaded like a waterfall into eyes acclimated to darkness. I reflexively shielded them. As vision adjusted, an open vista assaulted me.
......Wow.
Speechless. Mountains everywhere, just as described: the rugged northern range at the continent's edge. My cave mouth perched on a dizzyingly high plateau of the Black Thunder Mountains. Clouds blanketed below like a carpet; distant peaks of black rock and eternal snow formed a majestic skyline. Pristine, invigorating air filled my lungs—no trace of fine dust.
Impressive, but no time to gawk.
I've got to descend.
Frontier villages dotted the foothills. The novel mentioned a small herbalist settlement nearby. Head there, check the date, scrounge clothes. Strolling in naked would be social suicide before identity exposure even factored in.
Gauging the slope, I stepped carefully.
Crack.
"......!"
Spiderweb cracks spread across the rock underfoot. Just a normal step, but it couldn't withstand the subconscious force. Panicking, I steadied on a nearby boulder. It split. Wait, hold on.
Losing balance, I grabbed a protruding rock pillar. Crunch! The massive thing shook. A slight grip crushed the surface, roots heaving, dust flying. I yanked my hand free. My handprint scarred the pillar, which barely avoided collapse.
Damn.
I froze, breath held. Serious dilemma: Could I even descend like this? Every step shattering rock, every grab toppling pillars—that wasn't hiking; it was demolition.
Release the power. All of it.
I focused on my toes, squeezing out compressed strength to the absolute limit. Gentle enough for eggshells or tofu. Cautiously, I stepped. The rock held. Sighing relief, I began the descent in tiny, suppressed strides: heel-to-toe slow, distributing weight feather-light. Even a ballerina wouldn't walk this delicately. A calamity ancient black dragon tiptoeing down like eggshells. No audience, thankfully.
As altitude dropped, the landscape shifted. Barren snow and black rock gave way to dense conifers filling my view. Sunbeams dappled mossy earth through branches; distant water murmured. A living forest.
Inside, walking eased. Soft soil absorbed impacts, letting me adapt to restrained steps. Trouble came elsewhere: branches. Navigating thickets, they whipped my face constantly—thanks to my freakishly tall human height. Elevated view meant every narrow path snagged every twig.
One, two—tolerable. But the third slashed my eye, and irritation flared unwittingly.
"Ah, crap."
Air stilled. Something burst from me. Unintentional—mere flicker of annoyance rippled emotion, unleashing an indescribable pressure.
Dragon Fear.
Effects hit instantly. A squirrel-sized lizard magic beast on a branch foamed and dropped. Splat. It hit rigid, eyes rolled back—alive, but out cold. More rained from trees: one, two, three... seven total, all foaming, sprawled limp.
I halted, staring at the fallen beasts.
......They all passed out because I got annoyed?
Emotions leak intimidation. Straight from the novel. Small fry lose consciousness. On humans?
......One slip in the village, and the whole population drops.
Dizzying thought. Novel noted it worked weakly in Polymorph, but this carnage questioned "weakly." I stood still, deep-breathing to flatten emotions—irritation, anxiety, all sunk deep. Pulled every poker-face trick from enduring my old boss's nonsense. Calm restored, pressure dissipated. No more victims, though the beasts stayed down.
Emotional control is life-or-death.
Deep sigh swallowed, I stepped—then spotted a sunlit puddle. A stranger's face reflected.
I stopped, peering. Silver-white hair framing shoulders, ghostly pale skin, sharp features—too defined for human, too refined. This is me?
My old self? "Average" at best, forgettable. This was leagues beyond.
But the real issue: eyes. Liquid gold slits, vertical reptilian pupils—not round human ones. Unmistakably inhuman.
Not fully transformed.
Even calm, the slits persisted. Incomplete Polymorph left draconic traits default. Whatever—those eyes in public? Instant suspicion. No villager chats normally with vertical gold slits.
Hood or whatever, cover the eyes first.
Naked with dragon eyes. Problem list piling up.
Exiting the forest took longer than expected. Suppressing strength nonstop drained energy—not from use, but restraint. Like a full day of emotional labor before my old boss.
Lower slopes thinned trees; knee-high shrubs and grass opened views. Faint axe chops echoed; acrid smoke wafted. Village close.
Then, movement beyond bushes: a person. Crouched, digging. Short red hair, herb pouch at waist, petite build.
Perfect. Human.
But I couldn't approach naked. I flattened behind bushes, plotting to snag outer clothes. Holding breath, waiting—
Rustle.
Not my branch. The herbalist stood, whipping her head straight at my hiding spot.
"Who's there?"
Bright, bold voice. I froze. Detected? A mere human spotting a calamity dragon's stealth?
"I see you! Silver hair poking out!"
Ah.
Long silver-white locks glinted through leaves. She strode over without hesitation. I huddled, too late. She swept branches aside.
Mutual freeze. Freckled, lively face. Her gaze swept me: bare feet, naked body, silver hair... landing on eyes.
Forgot to cover them. Golden vertical slits. Her eyes widened.
Busted.
I stepped back instinctively. Expected screams, flight—or faint.
"......Whoa."
Admiration instead.
"You're really unique-looking! Those eyes are wild. But why're you naked? Not cold?"
"......Huh?"
I gaped. Zero wariness—clear, innocent eyes stared up. Naked golden-eyed man frozen like stone; curious redhead inspecting. Bizarre standoff on the forest-edge meadow.
......What the hell is this situation?